


Parallel Lines

by FadedRiddler



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:35:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22548658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FadedRiddler/pseuds/FadedRiddler
Summary: Eve is teaching a poetry class at Oxford University and her life is turned upside down by one of her students.
Relationships: Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova
Comments: 3
Kudos: 115





	1. The girl in the designer suit

When Eve Polastri’s alarm goes off in the morning, she, without thinking, rolls over and hits the snooze button. It’s too early to wake up - _she doesn’t even feel rested for gods sake! -_ but then, five minutes later, she remembers the reason her alarm was set in the first place.

“Shit!” she yells and jumps out of bed, tearing her pajamas off and throwing a sweater and pants on. She brushes her teeth and pulls her hair up into a high ponytail, and then she’s running downstairs to where her husband, Niko, is calmly sipping on coffee.

“Where’s the fire?” he jokes, but Eve doesn’t even pretend to laugh. It’s the first day of school and she’s supposed to be at her classroom in twenty minutes to set up for Poetry 101. She’s always had a love of the way poetry flows and she’s not bad at it either; she’s been published quite a few times in some big time magazines and poetry books.

“I overslept, need to get going,” is all she says, grabbing a bagel from the pantry and pressing a kiss to Niko’s lips, ignoring the tickle from his bushy mustache. Honestly, it’s one of the least appealing things about him, but Niko loves it, so Eve has to at least tolerate it.

“Love you,” he calls after her, but she’s out the door too fast to respond, which she’s thankful for, because deep down she’s not sure if she still loves Niko. They’ve been married for about sixteen years, but the passion wore off between them around year two. They still have sex, of course, but for Eve, it’s become more of a thing that she has to do, not a thing that she wants to. But Niko is comfortable, and she’s not sure she could throw sixteen years of her life away just because she’s not filled with burning desire every time he walks into a room.

She slides into her car and speeds out of the neighborhood and gets to Oxford in thirteen minutes, when it’s usually at least a twenty minute commute. Her first class doesn’t start for another twenty five minutes, so she has plenty of time.

“Eve!” someone shouts, and Eve stops and turns around. It’s her best friend, Bill, who teaches English Language and Literature. He’s a sixty year old, sarcastic, pessimistic man, and Eve loves him for it. They spend most of their break and lunch time gossiping about the other teachers and students.

“Hey, Bill. How was your summer?” she asks, and Bill raises an eyebrow with a snort.

“The wife left me at home with the baby. I'm almost glad to be back here," he replies gruffly and Eve laughs. "How was your summer?" 

Eve has to think about this question for a moment. She went to visit her mother for a week, and then she and Niko went to Rome. It was for their wedding anniversary, but deep down, Eve felt bored during the entire trip. But that's what she got, she supposes, when she agreed to marry him. She had always known that Niko was boring and vanilla and that with her answer, she had signed herself up for a lifetime of missionary, but she loved him. 

Now, she's not so sure what she wants. 

"It was good," Eve finally says. 

"How's Niko?" 

She's always found it irritating how people ask that every time. "He's good." 

They've almost reached the arts building when the headmaster, Carolyn Martens, comes over, half walking, half running. "Ah, Eve, Bill, there you are," she says. Eve glances at Bill, who's eyes have mockingly widened. Eve holds open the door for all of them and they head down the hall in silence until they arrive at Eve's room.

"What's up?" Eve asks while she fumbles to get the keys out of her purse. Carolyn purses her lips while she watches Eve struggle. 

"Dinner party at my house tomorrow night at six. Bring your husband, Eve. Bill, your wife is welcome to come as well," she says. 

"I can't make it," he says and Eve glares at him. She usually only goes to work things if Bill is going to be there, but she's already skipped out on all Carolyn's get-togethers over the summer. She has to go. 

"Sounds great," Eve says, and then Carolyn nods at both of them before walking away. Eve playfully slaps Bill's arm. "You asshole!" Bill just shrugs. 

"You know I have no desire to go to any of her parties," Bill reminds her and Eve sighs heavily and makes a mental reminder to call Niko and tell him. "Now, I have to get to class. I'll see you after this?" 

Eve nods and goes into her own classroom. There's still ten minutes before the first class starts, so she unpacks her purse and puts copies of poems on all the desks. This is her sixth time teaching this course, and she realized after the first year that most of the kids were taking it for the credit. She just wants someone who actually cares about poetry, actually cares about the way the words make you feel. 

But Eve knows that this is probably asking way too much. 

The clock strikes eight o'clock and students start filing in through the doorway, sitting down at random desks. Eve makes an effort to smile and greet each person as they walk past her, keeping a tally of the students who don't even acknowledge her. These are the kids that Eve won't raise a finger to help if they're on the borderline between letter grades. This is petty, but this is Eve. 

Once everyone's settled in, Eve stands up out of her chair and smooths down her sweater. "Good morning. I am Professor Eve Polastri, but you can just call me Eve. This is Poetry 101, but I will not accept slacking off in this class just because you're here for the credit. I expect nothing other than your best, and I will call you out if I feel that I am not getting it. I'm sure you've heard that people call me a hard ass and a bitch, and you'll probably find out that they're right. Now, I want to start off with this poem that's on your desk. Take a few -" The classroom door is thrown open and Eve stops talking. A girl strolls in, and the first thought that goes through Eve's head is: _Holy shit, she's hot._ The girl is dressed in a blue designer suit with a tank top underneath her blazer, her blonde hair is pulled into a bun, and she oozes power with every step she takes. As she gets closer to Eve, she can see the girl's brown eyes that are somehow warm and cold at the same time and her delicate features are flawless. 

The girl seems to notice that Eve is speechless and stops right in front of her, smirking. "Sorry I'm late," she says in a Russian accent and Eve's heart stutters. 

"Find an open desk and see me after class." Thankfully, she's recovered enough to sound somewhat intimidating. "As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, take a few minutes to read the poem on your desk. We will be discussing it." It's the Golden Shovel poem by Terrance Hayes, one of Eve's favorites. It's quite a challenge to write, but there's so much you can do with it. 

"Is everyone done?" Eve asks and the class nods. Her eyes are drawn to the girl in the designer suit, who just looks bored. They lock gazes, and suddenly the girl sits up straighter, a coy smile playing on her lips. Eve looks away. "So has anyone heard of the Golden Shovel poem?" Unsurprisingly, no one raises their hand. Eve sighs and turns on the projector, showing the original Gwendolyn Brooks poem. "You, what's your name?" she asks, pointing to a boy in the front row who looks not unlike a scared puppy. 

"Um, Kenny," he says. 

"Kenny, would you read this for us?" 

Kenny nods and reads off, 

_"We real cool_

_We left school_

_We lurk late_

_We strike straight_

_We sing sin_

_We thin gin_

_We jazz June_

_We die soon"_

"Thank you, Kenny," Eve says and he nods at her again. "Now, does anyone notice anything about Gwendolyn Brooks' poem and Terrance Hayes?" It's really not that hard; the last word of each line of Hayes' poem are the words from Brooks'. But all she gets is silence. "Really, nothing?" 

"The last word of this poem is the same words as the poem on the board," Designer Suit girl says after quiet has dragged on for too long. She sounds anything but interested in the conversation, but at least she got it right. 

"Yes, thank you. Now, notice the imagery in Terrance Hayes poem, the showing, not telling. He never explicitly sets a scene, yet I'm sure all of you can picture this exactly. Does anyone have anything they'd like to say about the poem, any questions or comments?" She's not expecting much, so she's a little shocked when a boy with curly hair raises his hand. "Yes, you. What's your name?"

"Hugo." 

"Yes, Hugo?" 

"So, what's the poem about? Like, what does it mean?" 

Eve frowns. "That's not what poetry is about, it doesn't just mean one thing, there's no right answer. Good poetry is ambiguous, it's open for interpretation. Having said that, what do we think this poem is about? Again, there is no right or wrong answer." She can't help but look at the girl in the back, wondering what she thinks about the poem.

Hugo shrugs. "The kid gets beat up at the end, right? For defending his mum?"

Eve purses her lips and nods. "Right. So until the end of class, I want you all to work on an analysis of Terrance Hayes' poem and then I want you to try it out on your own. I want you to write your own Golden Shovel, using Gwendolyn Brooks' poem as guidance for, let's say, a week from now. You can always come see me during my office hours, I am more than willing to look over your draft for you." She lets the class get to work and she settles back into her chair. She keeps catching herself looking at Designer Suit. There's just something about her that makes Eve want to know everything about her. 

Class ends about ten minutes later, and the girl comes up to her, wearing a sly smile. Eve looks up at her from her chair. 

"What's your name?" 

"Villanelle," she says, and of course, it only makes sense that her name would also be one of Eve's favorite types of poems. She's pretty sure that she has villanelle's in her lesson plans a few week from now. Great, now she won't be able to ever think of the poems again without picturing the girl in the designer suit. 

"Do you want to explain why you were late today?" 

Villanelle tilts her head to the side to give the appearance that she's thinking. "I lost track of time." 

Eve raises an eyebrow. "This class is at eight AM in the morning, what on earth could you have possibly been doing that would've made you lose track of time?" The grin that Villanelle gives her is anything but innocent and Eve feels something akin to heat spread through her stomach. 

"I was busy," is all she says, and Eve should leave it as that, but there's something about her. 

"Doing what?" 

"Doing _who,"_ Villanelle corrects, amusement lighting up her eyes as Eve feels her face flush red. 

"You showed up late to my class. Because you were having sex," Eve states and Villanelle nods. Eve did not need to know this, Eve _did not want_ to know this, because now all she can think about is Villanelle fucking someone. 

"A lot of people want me. I'm quite the catch, you know," Villanelle says and Eve's forced to acknowledge it as the truth as she trails her eyes up and down the blonde's body. Villanelle leans over Eve's desk so that her mouth is right next to the professor's ear and Eve shivers at the feeling of her hot breath on her skin. "I can do crazy things with my fingers," she whispers and Eve lurches back in her chair, almost falling on the ground. 

"I am your professor," Eve hisses. This is wildly inappropriate, but god, there's something about the boldness of Villanelle that intrigues her. 

Villanelle pulls back and her gaze is dark as she focuses on something on Eve's left hand. "Is that your only concern?" she asks and Eve's stomach drops as she moves her right hand to cover up the ring. Villanelle gives Eve one more smirk before walking out the door and Eve is left alone in shock. 


	2. Don't be jealous

"What do you want for dinner?" Niko asks once he gets home. Eve's been sitting in the living room for hours in her pajamas, working on her lesson plans, seeing if there's any way she can take villanelles out completely, and she jumps. 

"Oh, hey, you scared me," she replies and Niko chuckles, still looking expectingly. Eve shrugs. "I don't know. Do you want to order take-out?" It's easier this way, because they'll order Chinese or something and then watch television while eating and no face-to-face contact ever happens. 

"I was kind of thinking that we could go out?" 

Eve tries not to frown. She can't say that she has an early morning tomorrow because her poetry class only meets on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Maybe she could say she's not feeling well? But there's a hopeful look on Niko's face, a look that she can't say no to. "That sounds great. Let me just go change clothes." She walks up the stairs, the groaning of the steps mirroring how she feels inside. She's been thinking about Villanelle more than she'd like to admit, analyzing over and over again one of the sentences that she spoke: _I can do crazy things with my fingers._ Eve should not be picturing those _crazy things_ and she should definitely not be wanting Villanelle to show her them. And then there's a little part of her that feels guilty for not even thinking of Niko in the moment, and Villanelle had called her out for it. 

She rubs her forehead as she opens her closet. She wants to just put on pants and a sweater, but she owes it to Niko to dress nicely for him. She pulls one of her nicer dark blue dresses off the hanger and puts it on and checks herself out in the mirror, running her hands down her body. She slips her feet into heels and walks back downstairs, enjoying the gleam she sees in Niko's eyes. She likes being wanted, likes the power of being desired. 

They end up going to a fancy restaurant about twenty minutes away from their house, and they get seated almost right away. Eve orders a bottle of white wine and fidgets when Niko raises an eyebrow at her. 

"Tough day?" he asks and Eve waves a hand dismissively. 

"Oh, it was nothing." Nothing except for Villanelle in her designer suit, flirting boldly with her. "How was your day?"

"It was fine, really. Nothing exciting happened. I told the kids that they would eventually need to memorize Newton's three laws of motion and they all starting complaining. They're not that hard, for God's sake," Niko says and Eve smiles. 

"I'm not sure if I could memorize them," she remarks and Niko gives her a look. 

"You can recite Shakespeare though," he reminds her and she hums in agreement. The waiter comes back with the drinks and pours wine into Eve's wine glass and sets a water down in front of Niko. She takes a long sip, eyes darting around the restaurant so she doesn't have to look at him. She does feel bad about being so hard on him all the time, he's a really sweet guy and it's really not his fault that he's boring. 

"Oh, um, Carolyn Martens, you know, the headmaster? Well, she invited us to a dinner party tomorrow at six. At her house." 

"Sounds fun." Eve gives him a tight smile and they sit in silence until the waiter comes back to order their food. 

"I'm going to run to the bathroom," Eve says and quickly gets up. The awkward tension between them is almost unbearable and as she relieves herself, she tries to brainstorm conversation topics. There's not usually this much distance between them; she's not sure what's happening. 

She's washed her hands and is now pulling her hair back when the door opens and Eve's heart skips a beat. 

It's Villanelle, wearing a short, black dress. 

She looks just as surprised as Eve does, but a moment later, delight lights up her cat-like eyes. 

"Eve!" she exclaims like they're old friends. 

"What are you doing here?" It's none of her business, really, but she still wants to know. 

"I'm here with a date. It's my girlfriend's birthday and I wanted to take her out," Villanelle says with a playful smirk. The words hit Eve harder than she was expecting. _My girlfriend._ "Don't be jealous." 

"I'm not jealous," Eve snaps. 

"That's good, because what would your husband say?" she asks mockingly and then she's stepping closer and Eve gulps and suddenly Villanelle's just a little more than an arm's length away and Eve can smell her perfume, can see the light freckles on her cheeks. Eve meets her eyes, which she can now see are hazel with little flecks of gold and green in them. It takes Eve's breath away, how stunning she is. "You look great," Villanelle whispers, her heated gaze tracing Eve's curves and Eve shivers before turning away with a deep breath. She gathers up her hair in her hands but Villanelle gently grabs her arm. "Wear it down." 

And then Villanelle walks into a stall with a wink and Eve ties it up just to spite her. 

"You okay? You were in there for kind of awhile," Niko says once she gets back to the table and Eve nods absentmindedly, keeping her eyes locked on the bathroom door, taking another long sip of her wine. Niko seems to notice that she's staring, so he turns around to look at what has her attention. He turns back to her, raising an eyebrow. "Eve?"

"Yes?" she asks, tearing her gaze away from the door. 

"You seem a bit...distracted. Did something happen?" 

"No, I'm just tired. It was the first day of school, first day of having to work in two months. I'm fine," she reassures him, reaches over to squeeze his hand. He seems to buy it, and out of the corner of her eye she sees the door open and Villanelle walks out. She stops for a second, looking around, until she finds Eve. She smiles sweetly and waves and Eve focuses her gaze on the glass on wine in front of her and then finds herself watching Villanelle head back to her table. She has to subtly crane her neck to see who Villanelle is with. It's a brunette girl, with tan skin. She's pretty enough, Eve guesses. 

Niko clears his throat. "So, there's a little get-together at my school on Friday for the staff and families at seven." It takes Eve longer than she'd like to admit for her to figure out that he's asking her if she'd come. 

"Oh, yeah, that sounds great. I mean, you're going to my dinner thing tomorrow, so of course," she replies and Niko's about to say something when the waiter comes back with the food. _Thank god,_ Eve thinks and she can't help looking over to Villanelle's table, wondering what she's eating. 

She's just begun to dig into her pasta when everyone around her starts clapping. She looks up at Niko, who's just as confused as she is. They look around until Eve finds the reason for the applause; a young man has just proposed to his girlfriend. She said yes, judging by the happiness on her face. She turns back to Niko, who's looking a bit nostalgic. 

"Remember when that was us?" he asks softly, and Eve nods. She can still vividly recall that day; they had been walking down by the water, the same place where they had met. He had pulled out the box and gotten down on one knee and poured out his heart to her. She remembers that she definitely wasn't as happy as the woman is now, but she was still pretty elated. She looks back at the couple and then past them, where she sees Villanelle curiously peering at her. She swallows roughly and downs the rest of the wine. 

"I do," she says, repeating the words from the day she had taken Niko as her husband, for better, for worse, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish, till death do them part. She shovels pasta into her mouth so she doesn't have to say anything else. 

She finishes her food a few minutes before Niko does and she's really trying to keep her eyes off Villanelle - she really does try - but she can't help looking over every once in awhile and she can't explain the disappointment she feels when Villanelle stands up, tugging her black dress down, the black dress that really accentuates her curves and it's spaghetti straps too, so Eve can see the toned muscles in her arms, and fuck, Eve wants to run her hands over her entire body. 

"Professor Polastri!" Eve's snapped out of her _very inappropriate_ thoughts by Villanelle and her girlfriend, who have approached their table without Eve even noticing. Niko looks up from his chicken salad and then looks at Eve. 

"Villanelle," Eve says and she's sure that her face is heating up. "Niko, this is one of my students, Villanelle. This is my husband, Niko." Villanelle holds out her hand for Niko to shake and Eve feels almost nervous. 

"This is my girlfriend, Nadia," Villanelle introduces and Eve smiles politely at her. 

"Hi," Nadia says and Eve picks up on a Russian accent, a bit heavier than Villanelle's. Is that how they know each other? They're both from Russia? Have they grown up together, have they been dating for a long time? Is this who Villanelle was fucking this morning? 

"We were just about to leave when I saw you and I thought I'd come say hi," Villanelle explains and Eve almost rolls her eyes. "I've already started working on the poem for your class. I think you're really going to enjoy it," she tells Eve with a wink and Eve chokes on nothing. "Nadia, we should probably get going if I am going to give you your birthday present." She looks at Eve with wide eyes and mouths _Don't be jealous._ And then Villanelle's eyes dart to Niko. 

"I'll see you on Wednesday. Have a goodnight," Eve says stiffly before turning back to face Niko. Villanelle chuckles quietly, gives Eve one more once-over, and leaves with Nadia. She pours herself a half glass of wine and drinks it all and signals the waiter for the check. 

When they get home, Eve pins Niko against the door, kissing him hard. 

"Take me upstairs," she demands and squeals when he lifts her up and carries her into their bedroom. He sets her down and helps unzip her dress, pressing kisses to the skin that is revealed. She tries her hardest to ignore the prickle of his mustache. He unbuckles his pants and slides off his boxers and Eve sees that he's already half-erect. She takes him in her hand and strokes while he kisses her neck. 

He leads her to the bed and then he's going down on her, licking and sucking on her clit and pressing a finger in and out of her. She moans and pulls him up by the hair. "Please, Niko," she whimpers and he obliges, sliding his tip into her. She moans when he gets fully inside, and he just stays like that for a moment and Eve can feel every vein on his dick, can feel him throbbing inside her. And then he starts to move, starting out slowly and then gradually thrusting faster. "Oh," she gasps when she reaches down between their bodies to rub her clit, and she feels her walls clench around him. She knows that Niko is getting closer, but she's still not there yet. 

She tries to lift her hips more, tries to play with her clit better, but nothing is working. 

And then she thinks of Villanelle. 

Fucking Nadia. 

Fucking _her._

Eve lets out a moan at the thought of Villanelle in a suit, kneeling between Eve's legs, a purely sinful look on her face.

 _I can do crazy things with my fingers_ is what she said. Eve doesn't doubt it. 

Villanelle would know exactly what to do, she would curl her fingers inside her just right, she would suck hard on her clit, she would scrape her nails down Eve's back and whisper _come for me._

And Eve does just that, almost crying out Villanelle's name before she realizes where she is, who she's with. Niko comes too, and then he flops on top of her, pulls out, and rolls onto his side of the bed. He falls asleep almost instantly. 

But Eve stays awake for awhile. 


	3. The Golden Shovel

"Got any good students this year?" Eve's friend Jess asks her. They're sitting at the long dining room table in Carolyn's gorgeous and costs-more-money-than-Eve-will-ever-make-in-her-lifetime house. Eve is eating lamb stew and a salad, and Jess and Niko are both shoveling sausage into their mouths. 

The first thing that Eve thinks of is Villanelle, who seemed bored the entire time but Eve is sure will show promise. And also, Eve has thought very little of anything else than her blonde student since last night, when she had an orgasm thinking about her. It's annoying really, how Villanelle is able to worm inside Eve's brain just after two interactions. 

"Um, I don't know. It's too soon to tell," Eve replies and Jess nods. She turns to Niko and smiles to show that she hasn't forgotten about him. He lays his hand on her leg underneath the table and squeezes. But he won't go any higher, he won't try anything. He's always been cautious and never wants to take any risks, but if anyone would trail their hand up her leg and tease her, it would be Villanelle. Eve feels her face grow hot at the thought of being here with Villanelle, with her fingers skating between Eve's legs, gently touching, turning Eve on, knowing exactly what to do. Only Villanelle would be so bold as to try to finger her under a table at a dinner party - 

Fuck, what is she doing? 

She's with her husband, with her colleagues, and she's thinking of being fucked by one of her students. 

Eve takes a long sip of her wine, excuses herself, and then goes into the kitchen to see if Carolyn has anything stronger, like vodka or something. 

She's bending over, rummaging through cabinets when someone comes in and makes a sound. She jumps up and whirls around, hitting her head on the countertop.

"Shit," she curses and looks up to see one of her students standing there. She recognizes him as the one she made read Gwendolyn Brooks poem out loud yesterday. Kyle, Kermit, what was his name? 

"Professor Polastri," he says, sounding a bit scandalized, like he just walked in on something he shouldn't have witnessed. Kenny! That was his name. 

"Kenny, what are you doing here? Also, I told you to call me Eve." 

"Um, yeah. Alright then. Carolyn is -"

"Ah, Kenny, there you are," Carolyn says, walking into the kitchen. She stops and looks between Eve and the boy. And then the dots connect. 

"Is Kenny your son?" Carolyn sighs and nods and Eve gapes at them. She supposes she can see a little resemblance, in their cheek bones and noses, but other than that, Eve never would've guessed. 

"Yes, and I thought you were going out with friends," Carolyn says, staring hard at Kenny, who looks at the ground. 

"Sorry. Dinner took less time than I thought. I'll go upstairs. Thanks." Eve instantly feels bad for him and she's once again reminded of a puppy when she looks at him. A scared, lost puppy. He leaves the room and Carolyn turns her gaze to Eve. 

"Did you need something?" 

"You don't happen to have any vodka, do you?" Eve asks. Carolyn deadpans and Eve takes that as her answer. She awkwardly smiles and returns to the dining room. The rest of the party is relatively quiet, and it quickly ends after Carolyn gives a speech about the new year but the same expectations for nothing but the best. 

Niko drives home and tries to kiss her once they're in bed, but Eve gently pushes him away, murmuring that she's tired. That's not the reason, she just doesn't want to risk thinking of Villanelle again in order to come. 

She's really not sure that she can face her tomorrow. 

***

It's 8:05 in the morning and Villanelle has not shown up to class yet. Everyone else is here, listening intently to Eve as she launches into a discussion about the editing and revising processes of writing, but Eve can't help but keep noticing the empty seat in the back left of the room. 

Another seven minutes later, Villanelle strolls into class, sipping on a iced coffee. She's dressed in a rainbow colored knit top with black pants on and a green coat on top with her hair in a low bun. She looks great and it annoys Eve to no end that this student has such an effect on her. 

"Late again? Really?" The irritation at being interrupted in her voice is real, but it doesn't seem to bother the Russian. 

Villanelle shrugs. "The line at the coffee shop took forever." 

Eve rolls her eyes. "Maybe you should get up a little earlier then. So, you know, you can actually make it to class on time." Villanelle waves her hand dismissively and slides into a seat, putting her feet onto her desk. Eve stares at her, wondering if it's worth it to tell her to put her feet down. She decides that it's not, and moves on. 

"How is everyone's Golden Shovel coming along? I hope you all have at least started it." There's a few people who nod convincingly and then there's a few who don't say anything at all. "You have the rest of the class to work on it, and if you've already started, then begin to revise it. Ask someone to read it for you and get their feedback. I strongly recommend peer editing." 

It's only a moment later when Villanelle saunters up to the desk and drops a piece of paper on top of the other stuff on her desk. Eve raises an eyebrow at her when she sees that it's her Golden Shovel. 

"Will you read mine?" 

"Ask a classmate." 

Villanelle frowns. "But I want you to." Eve huffs and grabs the poem and places it to the side. 

"I'll look at it later. Are you sure you don't want to edit it a bit more? 

The blonde smirks. "I'm good. Let me know what you think," she whispers in her thick accent and god, it turns Eve on much more than it would be appropriate to admit. Villanelle goes back to her desk and pulls out a book and Eve tries to get other work done, but it's impossible when Villanelle's poem is right there, just begging to be read. 

She finally gives in and grabs the paper and the first thing she notices is how perfect the handwriting is; it looks almost like a font. She starts to read it. 

_I look at you, but you are already looking at me and we_

_stare and I have to wonder if this can ever be real_

_because I want to feel your warm skin when it's cool_

_outside and I want to watch movies with you until we_

_fall asleep and maybe you'd wake me up before you left?_

_I imagine you and me all the time, in and out of school_

_and I imagine you when I'm with her because we_

_might never get to touch. Unknown feelings lurk_

_inside me and you're someone that I would stay up late_

_for. Temptation is a delicious apple but we_

_are forbidden to bite, so the snake hides, waiting to strike._

_Maybe we will forever be parallel lines, traveling straight_

_and never crossing, which means that we_

_will never touch; such a shame. You would sing_

_my praises because I could do purely sin-_

_ful things to you if it wasn't our fate that we_

_can never be together, or is our chance just_ _very thin?_

_I could do so much to you, like drinking gin_

_off your body, I could show you a great time and we_

_would never be bored again. We could be like jazz;_

_never playing the right notes, sitting by the fire in June._

_It might not be possible, but I hope that one day we_

_could be perpendicular lines, but probably not until we die._

_I just hope that I can feel your touch soon._

When Eve finishes, she's breathing a little harder than normal and she's sure that her cheeks are red. Not a single one of her students in all of her years of being a poetry teacher has written something that has made her feel this way, which also may or may not have something to do with who the author is. The poem is beautiful, but also incredibly inappropriate. Eve can't think of a person who even comes close to matching Villanelle in terms of boldness. 

She clears her throat. "Class, dismissed. Villanelle, I'd like to speak with you." The blonde looks up and smiles knowingly before moving to sit on the table directly in front of Eve's desk. She swings her legs back and forth while she watches Eve. 

"So, did you like it?" 

Eve actually laughs. "You can't say things like this, especially to me. I am your professor and I am married -"

"Who ever said it was about you?" Villanelle asks and Eve stops cold. _Fuck._ She scans the poem again and sees that Villanelle is right, there's really nothing that ties her to the person that's being talked about, so why did she picture that it was her? Did she just want it to be? Oh god, what is happening to her? 

"I don't-I was-" Eve fumbles and it's very clear that Villanelle is enjoying this. "It doesn't matter who it's about. I do think that you could add more imagery if anything. I like the soft moments that you talk about, like wanting to watch a movie and this is someone who you'd stay up late for and I do like the biblical allusion to the apple and the snake and -" She stops again. She remembers that story, the story of the snake tempting Eve with the apple. Her breath catches and Villanelle looks very proud of herself. The poem is about her. 

"That was pretty clever, huh?" 

Eve clears her throat again. "I also like the parallel and perpendicular lines and the way that you use that comparison. You do however move pretty fast from one thing to another, but you keep coming back to the fact that you and um, this person, will never touch. I think that you could expand on your emotion if anything, maybe go into more details. Add more imagery." 

"Add more imagery, more detail?" Eve nods and Villanelle hums, looking deep in thought. And then she pushes herself off the table and puts her arms on Eve's desk, leaning forward. "Do you want me to describe how I'd show them a good time?" she whispers and Eve almost moans. "Do you want me to describe the purely sinful things I could do? Do you want me to describe drinking gin off your body? I could, you know, I could tell you exactly what I would do." 

And god, Eve can't remember the last time she was ever so turned on. She wants Villanelle to describe those things, she wants Villanelle do show her those things, but this is insane, Eve is married, _think of Niko, think of Niko, think of Niko._

"Yes," she breathes out and Villanelle looks delighted and surprised. And then Eve backs up in her chair. "Just not in your poem. Or to me. What about Nadia? I'm sure she'd like to hear about all of that." 

Villanelle chuckles and nods her head like she should've seen that coming. "Alright, Eve. Thank you for telling me how you feel." She smirks with a wink and swipes her poem off the desk. 

The sound of the door closing behind her makes Eve jump, and even though she did the right thing, there's still a part of her that feels empty. It's okay though, because she loves Niko, they're happy together, he loves her and he's so sweet and thoughtful and dull and predictable. 

She slouches back in her chair and massages her forehead with her hand. 

The thought of never being bored again has never sounded so appealing. 


	4. A summer's day

She sees Villanelle on campus on Thursday. The blonde doesn't see her - or at least pretends not to - and is having a conversation with Nadia. Eve stops walking and just stares. She knows that any one passing by will think she's a stalker, but she honestly doesn't care. She's too far away to be able to hear them so she just imagines that Villanelle is breaking up with her. 

Or is telling Nadia how much she loves her. 

Either one is fine, because it _doesn't_ matter. Villanelle can be with whomever she wants, and if she chooses to be with a younger Russian than to try to get with her teacher who's almost double her age, than that's her decision. But again, it doesn't matter and it's better that Villanelle chooses Nadia, because it's appropriate. 

God, Eve is so confused. 

Villanelle is with Nadia. But she's flirting hard with Eve. What does it mean? Is Eve just a game to her, does she mean nothing to Villanelle?

Just as she's thinking this, Villanelle notices her. She smirks and presses a kiss to Nadia's lips, so Eve starts walking to her car again. She hears footsteps and then Villanelle's next to her, bumping her arm lightly. 

"Hello, Eve," Villanelle greets. 

"Villanelle." 

"Where are you going?"

"Home." Eve's new plan is to keep everything simple and in one-word answers. 

"Do you want to go somewhere?"

 _Yes._ "No." 

She can see Villanelle pouting out of the corner of her eye. "Please? I haven't eaten at all today. We could go see a movie or something." Eve thinks back to Villanelle's Golden Shovel poem: I _want to watch movies with you._

"Go ask Nadia." 

"Eve, come on. I won't try anything. It's not illegal for a teacher and a student to eat together. In fact, students are allowed to take one of their professors out to eat per semester. I'd like to cash that in now." 

Eve rolls her eyes. "That's for educational purposes." 

Villanelle gasps. "Do you doubt that my intentions are anything other than for educational purposes?" She places a hand on her heart, acting shocked, and Eve wants to laugh. Instead, she raises an eyebrow. 

"Yes." 

Villanelle shrugs. "There's a theater right near campus. They have old movies playing. We should go, come on, please? It'll be fun. Or you could go home to your husband and sit in silence." Eve clenches her teeth. 

"You have no right -"

"Eve. Please just come see a movie with me. I'll even sit in the row in front of you. And to make it educational, I'll ask you about poetry." 

Eve sighs and throws up her hands. Villanelle is anything if not persistent. "Fine. And you like old movies, really? What else do you like, the opera?" It's supposed to be a joke, a joke about how strange it seems for her to like old movies, but Villanelle's face darkens. 

"No. Only old movies." 

And Villanelle is quiet the rest of the way to the theater. 

They end up buying tickets to _West Side Story_ and Eve lets Villanelle sit next to her. They have a shared tub of popcorn, Eve assumes the first time their hands touch while grabbing for popcorn that it's an accident, but by the fourth time, she turns her head to glare at the Russian, who's staring at the screen, a repressed grin on her lips. 

"You said you wouldn't try anything," Eve whispers accusingly, more out of the feeling that she needs to rather than her actually having a problem with it. 

Villanelle tilts her head to look at her and Eve doesn't miss her eyes darting to her lips. "Can you blame me?"

Eve just scoffs and looks back to the screen. 

The movie starts, but it's incredibly hard to concentrate when she can feel heat radiating from Villanelle, who has shifted so that she's leaning against their shared armrest and now Eve can smell her perfume. It's a sweet scent, but Eve's not exactly sure what it is; all she knows is that it smells like _Villanelle._

She turns to look at her again, but Villanelle is watching the movie, looking engrossed in the plot. Eve has never really been a fan of old movies, especially ones that are a "modern Romeo and Juliet". She also doesn't like musicals, but she does enjoy, however, listening to Villanelle sing along to every song under her breath. It's adorable and this might be the first time that Eve sees something deeper in her, something real. Before, Eve was sure that Villanelle was a goddess sent to earth to torment her, but now she sees that Villanelle is just a person, a captivating, intriguing, unpredictable, living human being whom Eve wants to know everything about. 

Which is not good. 

Because Villanelle is her student. 

Because she's married. 

And it's not good either that being her teacher comes higher than her own husband on her list of _why this is wrong_. 

Villanelle lays her hand on Eve's thigh and the touch burns through her pants. She has to grit her teeth and squeeze her nails into her palms so she doesn't straddle Villanelle and kiss her right here in the middle of _West Side Story._

Instead, she takes Villanelle's hand and moves it back to her own lap, but Villanelle doesn't let go of her hands; she intertwines their fingers and Eve lets her. 

They stay like that for the rest of the movie. 

***

"I hope you all are working on your Golden Shovel poems because it's due on Monday and you will not have any time in class today to work on those. Now, Hugo is going to pass out these poems to everyone," Eve says, plopping a stack of papers down onto Hugo's desk. He takes one off the top and scans it, groaning when he sees the name William Shakespeare on it. 

"Quit whining and pass them out," Eve says. It's _Sonnet 18_ by Shakespeare and this is the one piece that made Eve fall in love with poetry and she'll be damned if she lets a college student ruin it for her. Complaints rise up through the classroom as Hugo passes them out, but the one person who stays silent is Villanelle, who is just watching Eve. Eve hates how hard it is to read her because she'd really like to know what she's thinking when she looks at her like this. "Kenny, read the first section." 

The class eventually quiets down enough to where Kenny can read and be heard. 

_"Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?_

_Thou art more lovely and more temperate._

_Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,_

_And summer's lease hath all too short a date._

_Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,_

_And often is his gold complexion dimmed;_

_And every fair from fair sometime declines,_

_By chance, or nature's changing course, untrimmed;_

_But thy eternal summer shall not fade,_

_Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st,_

_Nor shall death brag thou wand'rest in his shake,_

_When in eternal lines to Time thou grow'st._

_So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,_

_So long lives this, and this gives life to thee."_

"Thank you, Kenny. So, what are our thoughts on this?" Eve asks, opening up the floor for discussion. Everyone looks around like they're waiting for someone else to speak up. 

"He's saying that as long as this poem lives on, the person will still be youthful and beautiful," Villanelle finally says, her voice monotone and expressionless. Eve wonders how she can be so in tuned but sound so bored. 

"That's good. Anyone else?"

"He's comparing her to a summer's day," Hugo pipes up and Eve tries not to roll her eyes. 

"Wow, so insightful," Villanelle mocks. "You're quite the poetry master." Elena laughs out loud and it takes all of Eve's willpower not to. Hugo turns around in his chair so that he's facing her. 

"Here's a bit of poetry for you. Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? No, a summer's day is not a bitch," Hugo snaps. Villanelle's lip twitches and she looks like she's going to hurdle over the desks and slap him, but then she relaxes and gives him a sweet smile.

"You know, it's a shame that your daddy had to donate a building to get you accepted here when maybe you should've just recited that," Villanelle taunts and Hugo goes bright red. Eve's not sure if this is actually true, but she has to admit that it was a good comeback.

"Fuck you." 

"Hugo," she says warningly and Hugo opens his mouth like he's going to argue, but he just looks at the table instead. She glances at Villanelle, who looks a little impressed. There's something else in her eyes, but Eve can't figure out what it is - admiration? respect? oh, god, _desire_?

Eve takes a deep breath and smooths out her pencil skirt. "So, this is a sonnet, a type of poem that has fourteen lines, an ABAB rhyme scheme with the last two lines rhyming, and the syllables are stressed, unstressed. Be prepared on Monday to go into more in depth analysis on Shakespeare's _Sonnet 18_ and then we're going to try our hand at our own. I'm not going to lie, sonnets are pretty difficult but I'm sure you all will be able to handle the pressure. Alright, I'll see you all next week, have a great weekend." She drops into her chair and closes her eyes while everyone leaves, but when she opens them, she's not alone. 

Villanelle is standing in front of her desk. 

"Do you need something?" Eve is having trouble looking at her after last night, like they did something wrong. 

Villanelle shrugs. "I had a nice time yesterday. Maybe we could do it again?" 

Eve actually laughs. "It wasn't a date, it was a one-time thing. That was your one dinner this semester. Go watch an old movie with someone else. Maybe your girlfriend?" she offers and Villanelle frowns. 

"You always bring Nadia up." 

"Because she's your girlfriend and I don't think it's fair to her that you're here, boldly flirting with your professor." 

Villanelle shrugs again. "I'm probably going to break up with her anyway. So it won't matter then." 

"Why would you break up with her?" 

"I'm bored." 

God, Eve knows exactly how she feels. "She seems nice though."

Villanelle laughs bitterly and the sunlight that streams through the windows makes her skin look golden. "She is nice. Too nice. But I'm not really good at relationships. I get bored of things very easily." 

"Are people just things to you?" It's a genuine question, because Eve wants to figure out exactly what goes through Villanelle's head. She wants to study her, wants to pass the test, wants to know everything about her. 

"Yes." The answer is simple and short, but then Villanelle reconsiders while looking Eve up and down. "Well, most of them are." She meets Eve's eyes, and then she's leaning over the desk, closer and closer, until she's a little more than a breath away. 

Eve glances down at her lips, her pink lips that look so soft and inviting - 

"Eve?" Villanelle whispers and Eve looks up, embarrassed that she was caught. 

"Yeah?" 

Villanelle doesn't say anything, just leans in closer and Eve's not sure if she should pull away or push Villanelle away or pull her closer and just kiss her, but she doesn't have a chance before Villanelle lowers her head and sniffs at her neck. 

"What perfume is this?" she murmurs and Eve feels let down. 

"It's vanilla," Eve mutters, her heart still racing from their almost-kiss. Villanelle stands up straight and smirks.

"Why do you look so disappointed, Eve?" God, she loves the way her name sounds coming from Villanelle's mouth. And she also hates her, because Villanelle knows exactly what she is doing to her, knows exactly why she looks disappointed. 

"I need to go," she says, packing up papers and shoving them into her purse. 

This time, it's her that leaves Villanelle alone in the classroom. 


End file.
